Like Diamonds
by sadisticscribbles
Summary: MI6s Marius Pontmercy and Cosette Fauchelevent are assigned to track down a blood diamond merchant- Alexandre Enjolras. However, when their hearts land in the game, what should have been an easy case becomes a dangerous web. Rated M for language, violence/torture, and raciness. Also, there are direct references to terrorism, slavery, and 9/11.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_** Okay, so I'm back! I know, it's been a while. Also, happy Marjolras week everyone!**

* * *

A tailored suit, neat tie, and polished shoes. Glowing pearls and white satin. The only thing that would have distinguished the man and woman making their way across the hardwood floor were the guns hidden in their clothes.

Just another evening with the rich and shameless.

"Okay, lots of people," Cosette murmured as they crossed the threshold of the hotel bar. Marius nodded slowly. "That could be a problem."

"Not if we play our cards right. Come on, let's get nearer to the bar. We won't look so weird if we have drinks in our hands."

"Yeah." Cosette took Marius' arm, bracelet clinking with his watch. "You do the pushing, I'll smile."

Slowly, they picked their way through the glittering crowds- literally; diamonds, rubies, and pearls winked from earlobes and throats all around the room...

"No wonder he chose to come here. He must do incredible business." Eventually, they squeezed into a corner at the bar itself.

"One North Pole,"

"And a Thunderstorm." Cosette played idly with her white shoulder strap as she sereptitiously scanned the room.

"See him?"

"No." Marius shook his head.

"This is ridiculous." He said. "You'd think there would be something. But no, we barely even got a picture of this guy."

* * *

_"You've worked on blood diamonds before, haven't you?" The grey-haired woman behind the desk folded her hands neatly and stared at him. _

_"A couple times." Marius replied. "Mostly dirty gold, but I did help with Liberia once." _

_M nodded. "Good. We've got a blood diamond merchant needing to be tracked down. Alexandre Enjolras. Unfortunately, we've barely got any visuals of him which is... frankly annoying. Apparently, he rarely appears in person for business deals." _

_M handed Marius a print-out, taken in passing of a man in suit and coat. He was mostly a blur. _

_"Not a lot of help." M said. _

_"So, what exactly are we up against?"_

_The woman settled back in her chair. "Close to three years ago, Enjolras made an agreement with one of the prime blood diamond miners in Mali. He ships all the diamonds mined to various jewelery companies and markets around the world- all completely underhand- in exchange for fifteen percent of the profits." M sighed. "I wish I could say this wasn't Britain's concern, but for the past three months, we've had blood diamonds in the market." She leaned forward. "Those profits are funding Al-Qaeda and fifteen percent of that is going into somebody's pockets. We need this shut down as soon as possible." She stood, Marius with her. "We've managed to figure out where he is via some well-timed hacking, but we'll need to move quickly. He's staying at the Winston Hotel in Bristol. Take Fauchelevent with you, she's been stuck in an office job for a while."_

* * *

"He's somewhere in this crowd." Cosette muttered. "Hang on..."

"What?"

"Just saw him. He's standing next to the girl with the dress. Take a look, but quickly."

"That doesn't really narrow it-" Marius halted. "Oh, that dress. Yeah, that's him, from earlier today-"

"Shh. He's coming over." Sure enough, the blond was making his way through the crowds, brunette on his arm. The girl's evening gown shimmered silver with diamonds.

"What'll it be, sir?" The barman asked. Marius and Cosette chose that moment to both take a sip of their drinks.

"Snow Queen," The blond replied.

"I'll have a Memory Loss." The girl chimed in.

"Put the tab under Fontaine."

Once Enjolras and the girl moved off, bearing drinks, Marius' lips quirked.

"I swear, he doesn't look old enough to be out of uni..."

Cosette laughed.

"That's what you said this morning." They'd tracked him around the city earlier that day.

The blonde's eyes flicked to the corner where Enjolras and the diamond woman, as she'd started to call her privately, were now talking in hushed tones.

"That girl with him... is she his girlfriend or an advertisement?"

"Possibly both." Marius turned back to the bar, replacing his glass on the counter.

"Another, sir?"

"Not right now."

"... or... maybe not." Came Cosette's voice. "Watch your arse, he's staring right at it."

"Hold on, what?" The blonde by his side turned, grinning.

"I'll try to get the girl alone at some point tonight, see if she can tell me anything. And hey, if he comes over... turn on the charm."

"Has anyone ever told you how much of a control freak you are?" Marius murmured.

"Oh yes."

Cosette replied, and left, milling into the small crowd. Marius sighed, and ordered another cocktail. He liked Cosette, but sometimes she could really be a pushover...

Lost in thought, Marius barely even noticed the other man's prescence until he heard Enjolras' voice ring out beside him.

"You carry Marlboros, don't you?"

Moments later, cigarette smoke curled into the air between them. Marius could feel the smaller man's gaze, eyes flicking towards him once... twice...

"Is she your girl?"

Marius looked over at him casually, furrowing his brow.

"Hm? Oh, Ursule." They'd both chosen false names. "Yeah, you could say that, I guess. Why do you ask?"

Enjolras shrugged, taking another drag on his cigarette. "Just wondered. You two seemed... close."

The other flashed a smile. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Cosette sauntering back from the opposite end of the bar, where the diamond woman sat on a barstool, drink in hand, looking sulky.

"Excuse me." Enjolras strode off, features like cut marble.

"So, I was just talking to Floreal, the girl with the dress?" Cosette had reappeared beside Marius.

"Hm?"

"She doesn't know anything, apparently she's hired company. Arm candy." Marius opened his mouth to reply, but Cosette continued. "The only thing she's sure of is that something fishy's going on, and that Enjolras is gay as hell."

"Tell me something I don't know." Marius sipped his drink. "He practically asked if I was straight just now."

"Looks like we won't be needing any of that lingerie I brought with me after all." Cosette grinned. "Come on, you've had boyfriends before. Worst comes to worst and we're losing him, don't hesitate to use that lovely arse. I'm going back up."

"That's right, just leave me on my own." Marius said, laying the guilt on thick.

"I've got stuff to do. I want to read the file we've got on this guy again."

"Fine, whatever." Cosette flashed him a smile and went back through the crowd. Her white evening gown made her easy to spot among the mess of jewel-toned chifon and black back to bar to replace his glass on the counter, Marius caught Enjolras' eye. He stood with his girl- well, escort. Floreal. The blond's eyes flicked away, brow furrowed. He seemed perturbed. Marius' mind raced back to earlier that day. They'd tailed him across town earlier that day, and they'd been more than careful... but if Enjolras or one of his seemingly endless number of aides had spotted them and recognized him here... he couldn't blame him for getting freaked out.

Marius chanced another glance. There was a man beside Enjolras now, whispering to him. The blond gave a tight nod, and Marius forced his gaze away, feeling his heart stutter.

_Get out get out get out now_.

The stance, the look on the man's face, the way his hand stayed just at his belt... Oh yes. Marius knew a hitman when he saw one.

Trying to look as casual as possible, Marius moved around the edge of the crowd, weaving through people. He could be wrong, of course, but why risk his cover and his life? Once outside of the lobby, Marius looked around quickly and then went for the fire stairs. Quicker, a lot quicker, and if he was right, he'd need to be fast...

There were footsteps behind him. He didn't know whose they were, but he quickened his pace instinctively, making sure to close the door to the stairs behind him.

Halfway up the first flight, Marius heard the door open.

Well, at least he had confirmation. Marius turned slowly to see the same man from before staring up at him. He didn't seem to be armed, but then... guns were difficult in public places, weren't they?

Just as Marius took a step forward, the hitman grabbed the railing, taking the steps two at a time. He could have been flying. The MI6 started forward to meet him, and let out a "Oof!" as he was slammed against the stairs, the hitman landing on top of him. His gun fell out of the inside pocket of his jacket, clattering on to the floor below. The agent fought for a moment against the other man's superior weight, the edge of one of the steps cutting into Marius' shoulder. Then, at long last, he shoved his attacker off. The hitman reached for the railing before he fell; Marius grabbed his collar and his fist smashed into the other man's nose with a crunch. The assassin yelled in pain, and his hand swung forward, catching the MI6 in the chest. Marius fell back once again, the wind knocked out of him. Letting go of the railing, the hitman strode to where he was struggling to get his breath back. The agent saw the glint of a knife blade in the other man's hand.

"We can do this the hard way, or we can do this the easy way." He was already kneeling, giving Marius a full view of his bleeding nose. "Easy way-" He never finished his sentence. Marius lashed out and knocked his attacker off-balance. He tumbled down the stairs, landing hard at the bottom. Dead.

Breathing hard, Marius stood and made his way down the stairs, pausing to retrieve his gun. There was an exit just beyond the stairs. Hoisting the man up, he dragged him out the door, thanking god for the darkness. There was a hill nearby- Marius sent the body rolling down it. Nothing else he could do, was there?

Back inside, the MI6 headed back up the emergency stairs- this time, his path unchallenged. Opening the door into the corridor of the next level, Marius breathed in and out in relief. There was something about the scent of hotels that put you at your ease. Odd. Marius had always associated the hotel scent with money. A little ways down the hall, the elevator door opened. Marius continued down the foyer, searching for his and Cosette's room number. A hand suddenly came down on his shoulder, almost gently.

"There's nothing holding you here, but I really wouldn't move, if I were you."

The grip on his shoulder tightened, something cold and hard pressed into his ribs, and there came the unmistakeable sound of a gun being cocked.

* * *

Cosette closed the suite door behind her, sighing as she took off her jewelry, tossing them onto the dresser carelessly. What a mess of slimeballs. Wealthy company was not in her taste. Even the cigarette smoke had smelled expensive. Reaching up to her hair, she made to pull out several pins. At least now she had some time alone-

Cosette glanced suspiciously at her hotel bathroom door. The faucet was running, she could hear it from out here. Going by the cracks in the glass of the balcony door, someone had broken in. Unashamedly, she pulled up her skirt and pulled her gun out of her garter- bloody things. She counted to three and shoved the door open.

"Hands up!"

The bathroom's occupant whirled around, dark hair flying. There was a moment of silence as one took in the other, the guns in each other's hands. Cosette was the first to speak.

"Drop your weapon, keep your hands where I can see them."

The other girl lowered her pistol, keeping her other hand raised.

"What the hell are you doing in my suite?"

"I just needed a place to go." The intruder said carefully. She was uniquely calm for someone with a handgun pointed at her head. This couldn't have been her first time in front of a weapon.

"What's your name?" Cosette kept her gun trained on the girl's eyes.

"I'm... I'm Eponine."

"Okay. Eponine, you're going to do exactly as I say. I'm going to open the door, and you're going to go into the bedroom. Don't drop your hands, and stay facing me."

Eponine obeyed, hands raised as she backed into the other room. A black leather purse dangled off her arm. Cosette followered her, gun in hand, like a partner in some lethal waltz.

"Why are you here?" Cosette asked once she'd stopped Eponine in the center of the room.

"I told you, I need a place to go." There was a faint note of desperation in Eponine's voice. Cosette kept her hold on the pistol.

"How did you get in here?"

"Balcony. I was on the floor below, it was easy. I had to break the window to get in, though." Eponine bit her lip. "Sorry about that."

"What are you hiding from?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

Cosette nodded. "Go ahead."

"Who are you?" 'Cause it's one thing to be suspicious when someone breaks in, but pulling a gun on an intruder is... it doesn't look good."

The blonde sighed. "My identity depends a lot on yours."

Eponine stared at the floor for a moment.

"My name's Eponine," She began. "And I'm running from a diamond merchant."

* * *

**Reviews are always welcome!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, yeah. I don't know if anyone's actually reading this on this website, but hey. You never know :)**

* * *

Marius kept still. There was no point in trying to assess his new attacker- he'd recognized the voice immediately. Enjolras hadn't wasted a hitman this time. He'd come in person.

"One wrong move and you'll already be dead. I hope you understand your situation."

Marius remained silent, merely nodding.

"Good." Enjolras continued. "What are you doing here? This is the third or fourth time I've seen you today. By all rights, you should be dead."

The MI6 weighed his options.

"Maybe... maybe I don't feel ready to die just yet. And maybe I was a little fascinated by a man I met at the bar..."

There was a huff behind him.

"Flattery won't get you very far."

"I didn't mean it as flattery."

A pause.

"A... friend of mine... saw you dragging the body out. Nice. Nice and clean. Quick."

"That was self-defense." Marius protested.

"I'm sure." Another beat. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here as a pit stop before I head on to Wales. Is that a crime?"

"No," Enjolras conceded. "But murder is."

Marius almost grinned.

"Self defense."

Enjolras slowly turned Marius around to face him, the gun still in hand..

"What's your name?"

"Etienne."

Enjolras repeated the name, one hand toying with Marius' tie.

"Call me Julien." A beat. "What's so fascinating about another hotel guest?"

"I wouldn't say fascinating... I just think it's intriguing how far somebody seems to have gone to have me killed tonight."

"What makes you think that has anything to do with me?" The hand was back on his shoulder, making one thing clear: Marius wasn't going anywhere.

"Not sure, but it might be the gun that's currently digging into my-" He stopped abruptly as the barrel of the weapon jabbed harder into his side.

"We need to talk. In private." Enjolras frogmarched the other man down the hall, bringing him to a stop in front of a supply cupboard. "This'll have to do."

"What the hell are you doing? I don't even understand what I do know-" Marius protested as he was pushed inside. Enjolras closed the door behind them.

"I really don't want to have to make this more difficult than it already as been," The blond said. "I'm sure you don't either. So all I'm asking is that you go on with your life, leave this hotel tonight, and forget any of this ever happened."

Marius stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Excuse me? Leave tonight? Hell no."

"I'm only asking once, Etienne. And I really hope you remember who has the gun right now."

The MI6 backed up till he hit the wall. The barrel of the pistol was centered on his chest cavity. "I don't understand. What the fuck is going on?" He breathed in sharply as the gun was dug into his flesh.

"Unless you have a death wish, you won't ask that again." Enjolras' stare burned into Marius. "Please don't think I won't use this. I've killed before."

"Oh, wonderful." Marius nodded slowly. "That's really great to know, thank you."

"Consider it an incentive."

"But-" Marius struggled to string his thoughts together. "I- I don't even know what I've done. I check into this hotel, and within twelve hours two people try to kill me. What have I done?"

Enjolras studied his face, searching his eyes intently.

"I've seen you too many times. Pity." He reached out, brushing a lock of Marius' russet hair. "In other circumstances, I wouldn't mind that."

"Then why can't you just let me go?"

"Do you have any idea who I am?"

"No! I mean- I caught your last name- Fontaine, or something- and you told me to call you Julien- for god's sake, I haven't done anything!"

"Aside from murder a man, but-"

"-But that was self-defense!"

There was a long silence as they merely looked at each other, and then Marius felt the pressure of the gun slowly lift from his chest.

"What...?"

Enjolras stared at him, head cocked to one side.

"You're probably harmless... still, what's going to take to keep you quiet?"

"I..." Marius hadn't realized he'd been hyperventilating. Now, he struggled to calm his breath. "I..."

"In through your nose, out through your mouth. Count to ten." Enjolras said absently.

"I don't know." The other man managed, once he'd slowed his breathing.

"What do you want? Money? That's easy enough."

"I- Right now, I don't want anything except to get out of this broom cupboard."

Enjolras sighed, leaning against the wall.

"I can't let you do that."

Marius closed his eyes and opened them in frustration.

"Then what do I need to do?" He demanded.

"Name your price. And then leave this hotel. What will keep you from talking about this little incident?"

"I- I don't know. I don't fucking know, okay?"

A pause, and then Enjolras exhaled.

"You said you were interested, earlier."

"I _was_ interested." Marius cut in. "Really, don't waste your time."

Enjolras stepped closer in the gloom of the cupboard.

"I don't have all day. Money or me, take your pick."

"You mean you're actually willing to-"

"We both get something out of it, don't we? I'm not adverse to it. And it gets me your silence, doesn't it?"

Marius felt himself at a loss for words.

_Is Enjolras seriouly suggesting sex to make sure I don't talk... he's honestly willing to do that... _

Something about it disturbed him.

"I- I can't ask you to-" He stammered.

"Oh for god's sake, I haven't got all night." Enjolras rolled his eyes and pulled the MI6 closer.

* * *

"Diamonds?" Cosette cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"

Eponine bit her lip, eyes darting back and forth.

"Conflict diamonds. His name's Enjolras." She said in an undertone. "You know him?" She asked, noticing Cosette's look of recognition.

"Not personally, no."

"I've told you, now you have to tell me."

Cosette rolled her eyes.

"Cosette, I'm an MI6. And you're damn lucky I am, too. That was a very high risk you just took. For all you knew, I could have been another one of _his _agents."

"Thank god you're not." Eponine said. "That didn't even occur to me. I just figured that two gun-toting bitches were better than one."

Cosette laughed, but made no move to lower her gun.

"Why are you running from him?"

Eponine sighed and dropped onto onto the nearest bed.

"Because I'm tired of being treated like a vagina on legs."

"I see..."

"Yeah, Enjolras is gay as fuck, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know good breasts when he sees them."

"So you're a sex worker." Cosette found herself almost imperceptibly lowering the gun.

"If any of the bigwigs aren't happy with their current percent of the profits... I go in and... smooth things over. Giftwrapped, from Alexandre Enjolras, with his compliments."

"Ah."

"So I've had enough. Besides, the rest of the cartel can barely keep their hands off me and 'Chetta anyway. Well, I mean, Grantaire's too into Enjolras, and Jehan's too gay to care, but the rest of them..." She shook herself. "So I'm getting out. Although," She paused. "We do have a problem."

Cosette raised one eyebrow.

"Hm?"

"No one makes it out of this cartel alive. If you leave, you're dead."

"So this is why you broke into my room."

"Yeah," Eponine endeavored to look remorseful and failed. "And I hate to say it, but we're going to have company."

"Right then." Cosette sprang into action. "I'm going to close the curtains, you stay away from the windows. And keep your gun close." The blonde was already making her way to the casement when she lurched forward, feet caught in the flimsy fabric of her skirt. There was a ripping noise. With an embarassed grimace, Cosette drew the blinds. "And now," She said, turning back to Eponine. "I would kill for a pair of pants."

* * *

"Sexy." Eponine glanced up as Cosette stepped out of the bathroom in a camisole and leggings. She yanked a brush through her jaw-length blonde curls, rolling her eyes.

"For god's sake, this is the least skanky thing I brought."

Eponine raised her eyebrows.

"Look," Cosette sat on her bed, looking over at the other woman. Eponine was perched on Marius' bed, looking as if a good shock would send her flying out the window. Her bag was clutched tightly, knuckles white. "We figured that I'd be spending most of my time waving my breasts in Enjolras' face. We didn't count on his orientation."

"Mm." Eponine shrugged. "I did mean that, though. You look hot."

Cosette flashed a smile.

"Well, nice to know it would have worked."

A pause.

"Thanks." Eponine said abruptly. "For helping me out, I mean."

"It's all for the service." Cosette rolled back on her bed. "The more connections we have to the cartele, the better."

"But still, you didn't have to do that." The other girl smiled. "Thanks."

"You should probably get some sleep. Don't know how much we're going to get later."

"We won't." Eponine smiled grimly. "They'll figure out where I am."

"If you're going to be so fatalistic, then why did you leave?"

"You don't understand," Eponine swung her legs over the side of her bed as if she were going to stand. "I had to leave. When you're in this kind of situation, you don't think about the consequences. You just _go._ In fact..." Her voice shook a little. "I'm probably- I'm going to die. It doesn't matter where I go or how far... he'll find me. Figure out where I am. And he'll have me killed. I've… seen it before."

"Well, you should have thought about getting killed before you left." Cosette snapped.

"So you're not even going to take my side here?"

Cosette shrugged. "Depends. I don't have a lot of patience here. What side are _you_ on?"

Eponine rolled onto her back.

"I'm on mine. I don't play to win. I just play to survive." Another silence. "Where are you taking me? To hide me, I mean."

"We'll try getting you a plane ticket tomorrow." Cosette tugged the sheets over her knees. "To America. Or just somewhere overseas."

"That's not far enough!" There was more than a hint of desperation in Eponine's voice. "He's going to find me."

"Well, I'm sorry, but you brought this on yourself."

"_I fucking know, okay?_"

"We'll send you overseas," The blonde repeated. "From there, you're on your own."

"Okay, then." Eponine sighed. "I'll make it work. I'll... I'll just make it work."

"I hope so. Now get some sleep. We'll probably have an early start tomorrow morning."

Eponine nodded and finally lay down on her bed, tugging her covers over her shoulders. Cosette reached over and turned out the lamp light.

"Good night."

There was no reply.

_Poor girl must be completely tired out._ Cosette thought.

* * *

The footsteps outside the room woke Cosette and Eponine simultaneously. They stared at each other in the darkness, and then Cosette stood- almost without a sound- and took Eponine's hand, pulling her behind the bed.

"Stay there." She whispered. "Keep your gun close, but stay there." She reached for her own pistol and stod there in the silence, waiting.

Slowly, the door to the suite opened, a thin crack of bluish light shattering the darkness. Cosette shoved her gun under her pillow and dragged a sheet around her torso.

"What the hell-"

She turned, taking in the situation. Three guys- tall, lean, and wiry.

"What are you doing in here?" She snapped. The curly-haired one was holding a gun. Cosette counted two more in the men's belts.

"Just be quiet and turn to the wall, and this will be over a lot quicker."

"You have no right to come in here!" Cosette reached behind slowly, straining for a touch of cool, reassuring metal.

"Shut up and face the wall!" Curly-hair barked. He seemed to be the leader.

"Why?" She shot back. "What the hell do you want in my room?"

"You've got something in here that we want."

"If you want to fucking rob someone, hold up the front desk!"

"We're not trying to rob you," Curly-hair said.

"Although," Another one stepped closer, glancing openly down at Cosette's chifon-clad breasts. "We might hire you."

Her fingers closed around the handle of the gun, just as Eponine launched from the far side of the bed with primal yell, slamming her gun into the nearest one's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Cosette smashed hers into the other back-up's head; he emitted a howl of pain. A well-aimed kick and Curly-hair landed on his back, as the blonde woman trained her gun between his eyes. Her sheet had slipped off.

Cosette got on her knees, straddling the man's chest. Her gun pressed against his trachea.

"Want me to kill you?" She murmured. The man stared up at her, eyes wide and frightened. "I can't fire my gun, but I do have it surpressing all the air from your lungs. I wonder how long you'll last?" She looked over her shoulder. "Make sure the others are out cold." Back to the hit man. "If I let you live, you're going to leave this hotel, and you're going to buy yourself a really big drink, and you're going to forget any of this ever happened, okay? Just nod." The man jerked his head once, twice. His face was beginning to turn blue. Cosette lifted the gun slowly, and her captive launched forward, gasping. The handle of the gun slammed into his head and he fell back, unconscious.

"Come here. Help me get their weapons off."

Eponine knelt beside Cosette, wrestling with Curly-hair's belt.

"Check his boots." Eponine pulled another pistol out of the man's jacket. "Courfeyrac tends to keep knives in there. Don't ask me how I know this."

"Who are the others?"

"That one's Joly, and the other one's Feuilly."

"Let's get them in the bathroom for the time being. Got all the weapons?"

Eponine nodded.

"Yeah, let's go."

The two women dragged the men's bodies into the bathroom, depositing them on the tile.

"Can I just say," Eponine straightened up. "That you're fucking brilliant?"

Cosette grinned.

"I knocked Mr. Curly-Hair pretty hard. He'll be out for a while." She held the door for Eponine. "You should get some sleep. You'll be flying out tomorrow." She locked the door behind them.

"Hey," Eponine stepped forward cautiously, one hand outstretched.

"What?"

"I- I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For freaking out back there. I let them see me and... that was... stupid of me."

"It was kind of a stupid move." Cosette agreed bluntly.

"Just... I know what those guys are like... and... they could have... hurt you?" She ended lamely. "Okay, so I'm trying to justify my own idiotic decisions, sue me."

"Don't sweat it. We got the job done, right?"

Eponine grinned.

"Yeah. We did. I finally got to hit one of them over the head." She laughed a little. "That felt good."

"I bet."

Cosette flopped onto her bed, nestling under the covers. "Good night."

Eponine remained standing, dark hair curtaining her face.

"Hey-" She stopped abruptly. Cosette raised an eyebrow.

Eponine moved forward suddenly, kissing the other woman once, gently. The blonde leaned back, and opened her eyes once they'd broken apart.

"Thank you." The dark-haired girl whispered. "For everything. For- letting me do that." She moved back to her respective bed. "G'night."

The blonde gave a fleeting smile, and reached over to the lamp. The light in the suite clicked off.

* * *

**Reviews****… reviews are good.**


	3. Chapter 3

He was lighting another cigarette. Leaning against the wall, Marius wondered vaguely how many packs the blond could go through per day. It seemed to him that Enjolras had barely stopped smoking since they'd spoken at the bar. Kissing him had been a bitter cocktail of ashes, liquor, and faint traces of mint toothpaste.

One hand played lazily with his loosened tie, and Enjolras stared blankly at the opposite wall of broom cupboard. After a delayed pause-

"... You're still here?"

Marius nodded.

"You never told me to leave, so I figured..."

"Well, I'm about to." The end of Enjolras' cigarette glowed as he took another drag. "I have things to do."

"Okay." Marius made to follow him out the door, limbs still slightly unsteady.

"Don't forget-" Enjolras paused on the threshold, a hand on the door frame. "You need to leave this hotel tonight." He glanced down at his watch. "Today."

Marius sighed with reluctance.

"Yeah."

It took him a moment to realize that Enjolras wasn't moving. His eyes were fixed on Marius, who smiled uncertainly.

"What?"

"I'm trying to remember you. In case I see you again."

And then he'd strode out into the hall, just as purposeful as usual, as if the last few minutes had never been.

Halfway down the corridor, Enjolras was intercepted by a slender girl in jeans and a black jacket; they held a whispered conversation, and then Enjolras stalked off, brow furrowed. The girl continued down the hall, but then poked her head around the corner, staring at Marius.

"Hallo?"

Cautiously, Marius stepped out of the cupboard, noticing how the girl's hand had strayed inside her jacket. Definitely going for a weapon.

"What were you doing in there?" She- _he _asked. His voice had cracked and deepened.

"I was... just leaving." Marius danced around the fact.

"Oh..." The boy stared him down, toying with his pink streaked braid. His lips twitched with a smile, as if he were laughing at a joke only he understood. "Well... you have a good night."

"Yeah. You too." The MI6 answered out of habit, wondering privately if all of Enjolras' employees were like this.

Once the boy had disappeared down the stairs, Marius ran a hand through his hair. Right. He'd done everything he could do, under the circumstances. Now he just had to go back to his room and get some proper sleep.

* * *

Cosette stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and tried to drag her brain out of sleep. God, she hated waking up. Hated mornings. It wasn't even light out, and already she was feeling the familiar pull on her spirits. Any prospective lovers were quickly turned off just by how much she could bitch at daybreak.

The sound of another breathing pattern reminded her that Eponine, her unexpected guest from the night before, was still there. Eponine. Now there was a girl with some unresolved issues. She could pull a gun like a professional, but she never seemed to stop being _scared... _always, even when she laughed, she seemed afraid.

Cosette turned her head, just able to make out Eponine's form on the other bed. Her dark hair was spread over the pillow in a tangled splash of black.

They'd kissed last night. Just a little thing, but Cosette wasn't sure how much it meant. Meant for Eponine. She knew the girl had wanted it right when she'd started blatantly flirting with her...

"_All the same... you look hot."_

"_Can I just say you're fucking brilliant?"_

And the way she'd gone wild when one of the others had made a pass at her.

This was stupid. People don't do this kind of thing. People don't just randomly fall for people. Not in real life.

Closing her eyes, the blonde nestled into the mattress, trying to sleep.

_These fucking dark circles..._ she thought drowsily. _Have to do something about those. They don't say wealthy single woman. Eh... I'll tell them I'm worried about where the stock market is headed next, if they ask..._

Another series of footsteps sounded on the hotel suite carpet. Cosette's eyes reopened, and she seized her gun, which had been stowed under her pillow, pulling it on the intruder.

"Jesus, Cosette, it's me!"

Marius stared at her in bewilderment.

"Oh, you." Cosette lowered her pistol, replacing it on the bedside table. "Sorry, we had some visitors last night. Speaking of which, where the hell were you?"

"Oh, nearly getting killed and giving head to a certain blood diamond merchant. Nothing major."

Cosette stared at him, dumbstruck.

"Excuse me, you _what?_"

Marius spoke in an undertone.

"I got blown by Alexandre Enjolras. What more is there to say?"

"Do I even want to know how this happened?"

"He realized he'd seen me before, got freaked out, thought I was going to report him or arrest him. So, either I could take his money, or we could have a quick one. And you know we can't screw around with the money. Mess up those figures..." Marius hissed through his teeth. "And a lot could go wrong. So... yeah."

Cosette snickered, sinking back onto the bed.

"Ooh, if Q could see you now..."

"No." The man said firmly. "_That _is done. We- that- we weren't even a thing. That was a one-night stand."

"I don't kno-ow..." Cosette said in a sing-song voice. "He looked pretty into you..."

"Might I remind you that Q and What's-his-name went exclusive several months ago? We weren't anything special." He changed the subject abruptly. "Besides, what about you and the brunette I can't help noticing is in my bed? What's the story there?"

Cosette stood, moving to the dresser and examining her reflection. She grinned.

"That brunette is a former member of Enjolras' cartele."

Marius' brow furrowed.

"Former?"

"We're flying her out of the country today. Incidentally, there are some other cartele guys locked in the bathroom. We'll be dropping them off later too. We had quite a night last night."

Marius swallowed.

"Oh, something I forgot- Enjolras wants us out of the hotel. He considers us a threat."

"Yeah... but we can't move." Cosette sighed. "You promised him?"

"Not really. He just sort of... I don't know, changed his offer?"

"We'll have to think of some excuse then." Cosette dragged a hand through her hair.

"But what, though?" Marius sat on Cosette's bed, biting his lip. "I was nearly killed twice last night by a criminal, there is _no_ logical reason to stay here."

"You're thinking like Marius the MI6." The blonde said. "Marius the Fantastically Bisexual Banker's Son would have less sense and more balls, no offence meant. And, given that he got a blowjob from a very attractive, clearly dangerous man, he'd be raring for another chance with him. So... play around with that." Cosette fluffed her hair in the mirror, just as there came a waking groan from Eponine.

"Time to get up," Cosette said, turning to the girl. "I think Marius wants his bed back."

"Yes please..." Marius stood, but the blonde halted him.

"Uh uh. You're driving Eponine to the airport, first."

Eponine looked up blearily.

"Not you?"

"No, I have to take care of our boys in the bathroom."

"Oh." Eponine dragged herself out of bed, dark curls frizzed from the night before. She caught sight of her reflection and scowled. "Ugh. I have to learn to start carrying makeup remover with me." She frowned at the mirror, absently smoothing her black leather skirt. "I don't suppose I can get your number. Cosette?"

"No." The blonde grabbed her suitcase, sorting through her clothes, with a quick glance at Marius. He was staring resolutely at the ceiling. "I'm not allowed to."

Eponine sighed imperceptibly, chewing her lower lip.

"'Kay. Just a thought."

Cosette paused, lost in thought.

"Give me yours. " She said eventually. "You can't call me, but I can call you. It's not ideal, but..."

"Thanks." Eponine rattled off her phone number. "I just... nevermind."

"Yeah." Cosette looked up from her phone, where she was typing the other girl's number in. "I get it." She stood up, and her manner became brisk once again. "Marius, turn your back, I need to change."

"Yeah, yeah." Marius rolled his eyes, complying.

"Oh, just think about our friend's tongue." She teased, kneeling by her suitcase.

"Shut up."

Pulling out a pair of charcoal jeans and a loose blouse, she caught Eponine's eye in the mirror, grinning. The smile slowly became a grimace as she fought to hook her bra on.

"Ugh. Fuck these things..." She muttered.

"Here." Eponine came forward, taking the ends of lingerie.

"What's-" Marius half-turned.

"_Don't turn around!"_ They said together. Eponine fastened the bra quickly, breath warm on the back of Cosette's neck. The blonde felt the other girl's fingers trail down the curve of her spine, and she shivered.

"Thanks." She whispered, mouth suddenly dry. "I'll take it from here."

Somehow, she could hear Eponine nod behind her. Cosette dressed hastily.

"Okay, Marius. Let's get this show on the road."

* * *

Cosette turned the page of her novel, checked her watch, then sighed. She hadn't killed them by accident, had she? They had to wake up at some point. And she couldn't wait around in this car lot forever.

Another sigh, as if sighing would rouse them.

"_Perhaps it seems odd that a casual meeting on the street could have brought about such change. But sometimes life is like that isn't it?" _

Hm. Arthur Golden seemed to be on to something there.

There was a groan from the backseat of her car, seemingly completing her thought.

"Ah." She said out loud. "So you're awake."

It was the skinny ginger from last night- he hadn't talked much.

"Ugh..." He rubbed his head, eyes screwed up against the morning light. Taking in his surroundings, the man- no, more of a kid, really- made a grab towards his belt, fingers closing on air. "What- what's-" He spluttered.

"No, you're not in the hotel room, yes, you're in a bad situation, and no, you don't have your gun anymore, do you really think I'm that stupid?"

Cosette turned in the front seat, mirrored sunglasses masking her eyes.

"No..." He said sullenly.

"Sorry? I must have misheard you..." The blonde smiled sweetly.

"No, marm." He answered through gritted teeth. "What the hell am I doing here?"

"Wake up your friends, and then we'll take a little walk."

Five minutes later, she was shepherding the three men down the sidewalk.

"Who the hell are you?"

"A friend." She said shortly. "Come on. Hurry up. I don't have all day."

"If this is about the deal with Lamarque, then tell him that he's-" The stockier one- Joly, Cosette was fairly sure- fell silent when she turned to face him.

"What's this about a deal?"

Joly stared resolutely forward.

"What the fuck are you playing at?"

"We're almost there." Cosette jerked her head. "Come on. Unless you want to meet my mean side."

Curly-hair and the red-haired one followed her, pulling Joly along.

"Play along." One of them muttered to the others.

Curly-hair frowned.

"A bar? Seriously? I've never seen this place before, where the fuck are we?" There was a tremor in his voice.

"A good place to turn your life around." Cosette gave them a half-smile. "Come on in. Drinks are on me."

They squeezed around a table, each with a beer that, so far, remained untouched.

"Last night, you forced your way into my hotel room. Don't bother trying to get back. You're far away." Cosette took a sip of her gin and smiled. "Since killing you can get rather messy and there's always that problem of disposing the bodies, I'm offering you a second chance."

All three of them stiffened at the word _bodies._ The ginger put his drink down.

"You get fantastically drunk, you give me some information that could prove very useful, and I let you go your own way. You can find your way back, if you want. But if you do, just remember that you'll meet me again, and next time I will kill you." Her lips quirked. "Just thought I'd mention it. Go on, drink up. It's good."

Exchanging glances, they slowly took sips of their beer.

"Good boys." She smiled again, the effect slightly enigmatic with the shades. "Now, let's talk."

* * *

**Ah, I do love my badass Cosette****…**


	4. Chapter 4

Marius' car sped along the highway, letting trees and road become thick ribbons of green and grey.

"You're heading for the U.S, aren't you?" He said.

Eponine nodded, tugging at her lower lip.

"That's right." Her other hand clenched her purse until her knuckles went white.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," He told her, eyes on the road. "We get you the ticket, we get you on board... if we move fast enough, we shouldn't have anything to worry about."

She swallowed hard, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.

"In my experience, it's good to be paranoid." Her voice cracked. "He'll have found out by now, he'll have people out looking for me... and if they think to check the airport, which they undoubtedly will..." She trailed off.

"Do you have a weapon?"

"Yes, I've got my pistol, but..."

"And you're a good shot?"

"Of course, my dad taught me when I was nine."

"Then, you've got defense." Marius pointed out. "Use it, but only when necessary. I don't fancy having to explain to the federal government how an airport was the site of another bomb explosion. And Cosette bought the ticket online earlier, so you should be fine."

Eponine nodded shakily.

"Okay. Calm... calm..."

"We're almost there," Marius anounced. "Just another mile or so."

They rode in silence for a minute or two.

"Pick up the-" Eponine began suddenly. Her voice was tense as she stared into the rearview mirror. There was a chrome car behind them on the road.

"I know." Marius said grimly. The car increased in speed, and the MI6 reached up to pull the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. "Only two more minutes."

Eponine practically leapt out of the car before it came to a stop.

"Do you need back up?" Marius leaned over the driver's controls, staring at her through the window.

"I've got it." Eponine said. "Besides, we can't risk you, can we?"

"True..."

The girl turned to leave.

"Wait! You forgot your bag!"

The brunette whirled around suddenly, all but ripping it out of Marius' hands.

"Thanks." She said thinly. "I've got it."

The man in the car frowned, but nodded.

"Okay. Best of luck to you. I'm sure Cosette will call if something comes up."

With a fleeting look in the rearview mirror, Marius pulled out of the parking lot, heading back down the highway. Eponine didn't stay to watch though. A chrome car- the car that had been tailing them- had just puttered to a halt in its parking space.

Eponine walked quickly, trying to control her breath. Her gun was stowed in her purse- safe enough that security wouldn't find it, she had everything she needed... she was going to make it to the plane. She was going to see that American coast. God fucking damn it, she was going to live.

Ticket line.

Of course, it _would_ appear to be ten miles long. Didn't they understand that this was an emergency?

The clamour of people around her unnerved her. Ever since she'd left her old house- if that's what you wanted to call it- in Montmartre, abandoning the clubs, where the dubstep sometimes shook the building frameworks, and the drunk guys with wives back home that were secretly shagging their bosses... she'd sworn off sound.

_For God's sake, will you shut that fucking pomeranian up? No, giving it a treat is _not_ going to fucking help..._

The woman- woman? more like a toad- that stood in front of Eponine carried a tiny, white dog. Ugh. Small dogs. At least she was near the front of the line now. Not much longer...

The dog let out another high-pitched yip, and, as if that wasn't enough, started wheezing. It must have had some kind of respiritory condition, because no animal could create this kind of rasp without a medical complication.

_Thank god, you're leaving._

The woman thanked the ticketing agent, and waddled off, pomeranian still panting. The man behind the counter smiled at Eponine.

"Excuse me a moment." And turned to file something behind him.

_No no no no no no no no no... you can't do that. I have to get on that fucking plane!_

"Bad day?"

Someone said behind her, and Eponine half-turned. Her breath caught in her chest. Scar across jaw, cheap attempts at eyeliner...

"What are you doing..." She tried to master her voice. "... buying a ticket out of the country?"

"I could ask you the same question." The barrel of a gun jabbed the small of her back.

"Monty, we've been friends for ages, why the hell are you doing this? You should be helping me out, not threatening to shoot me." She muttered.

"Because I, unlike you, evidentally, have a self-preservation instinct." The man behind her leaned in closer. "Boss wants you back. Misses your sweet feminity." The gun was digging uncomfortably into bare flesh- her shirt had ridden up on her back.

"The hell he does. He'd only miss me if I had a dick."

"Cut the shit. We both know he's going to find y-"

The ticketing agent turned back, all smiles.

"Where to?"

Eponine gritted her teeth, weapon cutting into her back.

_I've got a gun in my purse, four bullets left... It's not much, but I have a chance._

"America. Washington D.C. You'll find it under Madeleine."

The blond young man behind the desk frowned as he scanned his computer. His face brightened.

"There you are." He punched out a ticket, handing it to her.

"Thanks."

"Enjoy your flight. Next!"

The dark-haired man behind her smiled.

"Can I drop out of line? Need to talk to someone."

He dragged Eponine with him, ignoring the agent's bewildered look.

"Next!"

"You do realize he's after you?"

"Yeah, since _you're_ here, I kind of got that, Montparnasse."

Montparnasse shook her.

"You're going to die, Eponine. You're going to die, and you fucking know it. We know where you're going, and it'll only be a matter of time before someone finds you and ends you in some alley somewhere. It'd be so easy. If you even make it onto the plane. Now, give up and come with me."

Eponine's jaw tightened.

"No."

"Surrender, or I swear I will pull this trigger, right here, right now." His lips twitched mirthlessly. "Didn't you always hate the idea of dying with people watching?"

The woman slammed his chest, knocking him to the ground. There were several gasps from around them. They had people's attention now. Shit.

"Shut the fuck up." Her voice cracked. "Just. Shut. Up."

Montparnasse seized his gun, pulling the trigger. Eponine darted to the side and took off, pushing past people. Run, run, run, oh and getting your pistol out would really be a good idea...

She crashed into what, for a wild moment, appeared to be a wall. Then her hysteria cleared, taking in the six foot man before her.

"Bahorel..." She warned. Her fingers slid inside her purse, closing around the handle of her gun.

"It's time to go home, 'Ponine." The man grabbed the hand that was still in the bag. "He never said whether you had to be alive or not, and frankly, I'm not in the mood for your bullshit."

A twitch of her wrist, and she managed to fire. Bahorel let go, hands flying to where blood trickled down his side. Eponine ran on, noting with relief the women's lavatory up ahead. Now that's more like it. Weaving through small clusters of people, Eponine broke off, ducking quickly into the bathroom; she headed immediately for the middle, unoccupied stall.

_Okay... okay... you're still alive... three bullets left, but you're still alive, and that is a fucking miracle... _

Latching the stall door, she climbed onto the toilet seat, drawing her feet up. Now that she'd actually paused, all her nervous energy was expelling itself at once. She shook uncontrollably.

_I'm not dead... I'm not dead... I'm not dead..._ She chanted to herself. _I'm not going to die. Not just yet. I'm going to live to my eighties, and be an old, crotchety American lady, and this just going to be some nightmare from a colourful past... I'm not going to die. _Tears clung to her lashes. _I can't die. I'm not going to die... not here... not in some fucking airport lavatory. They're not going to kill me... no. No no no. I'm going to win. I've got to win. And when I land in Washington D.C, I'd better get a fucking call from Cosette, or-_

The bathroom door swung open again, and boots clicked on the linoleum.

"Eponine?"

Inside the stall, the girl's eyes widened in horror. _No, no no no..._

"Eponine, you're going to come out now where I can see you." The voice- a woman's voice, with that slightly Puerto Rican timbre to it- shook slightly.

Gritting her teeth, Eponine raise her gun with one hand, and slowly opened the stall door.

"'Chetta? They sent _you?_" There was more weariness in her tone than disbelief.

The other woman chewed her lip, but kept her own gun raised. Several feathery wisps of her dark hair blew in the air conditioner.

"He's smart, Eponine. He knows what's going to get you."

Eponine swallowed hard.

"... Are you here to take me back or to kill me?"

"Whichever. Whichever's easiest."

"And you think you could do it?"

"I've killed before, Eponine, you know that-"

"But it's me this time, isn't it?" Eponine cocked her head to one side, gun still pointed at the other woman. "Could you pull the trigger, watch me fall and cough up blood, and know that you're the one who did that? Did that to _me_? Are you really that cold, 'Chetta?"

"It doesn't matter." Musichetta tightened her grip on the pistol. "Either way, you're going to die, eventually. That was fucking stupid, you know, running. You should have known we'd come for you."

"'Chetta..."

The woman's eyes looked damp.

"I'm sorry, Eponine. I'm fucking sorry, okay?"

"Sorry cuts no ice."

Both guns fired at once. Eponine jerked back, feeling her left shoulder catch fire. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck..._

Musichetta hadn't fared much better. One hand was pressed against the wall, the other trying to staunch the blood from the wound in her leg.

Suddenly, the airport intercom crackled to life.

"_The Bristol-Washington flight leaves in ten minutes. All passengers should make their way to Gate E. Thank you."_

Eponine gritted her teeth against the pain in her shoulder and cautiously walked forward.

"Go on." Musichetta grimaced. "Maybe you'll get lucky. Who knows? You might make it out the door."

"I'm glad you have such faith in me." Eponine said flatly, and swung the door open. A bullet rammed beside the door hinges.

_Gate E... there._

Eponine broke into quick pace, but not so fast she'd call attention. She didn't need Bahorel or-_-_

"Eponine!"

- Or Montparnasse finding her. He was stalking through the crowds, coming for her, and she could see the gun in his hand...

_I am _not_ dying here._

Now she broke into a run, bumping into people, tearing for Gate E, she had a little time left, maybe, if she pushed her luck...

"_Eponine!"_

Her shoes skidded on the linoleum, and she went careening into a pillar, crying out as her shoulder made contact with the stone. Stars burst in her eyes, heart beating wildly and oh shit, he's coming for me-

Montparnasse was there in another second, pinning her against the pillar. The gun was back, this time against the hollow between her ribs.

"I'm giving you ten seconds." He told her, breathing hard through his nose. "You'd better have surrendered by then, or else your ribcage will get smashed."

Eponine stared at him without blinking, hardly moving. There was a barely perceptible click of a gun being cocked-

A loud pistol shot echoed throughout the airport. There were several screams, and Eponine dropped her gun, running pellmell for Gate E. Montparnasse crumpled in front of the pillar, a skinny, dead crow on the tile.

Flying through security, dropping into a seat mere minutes before they made the announcement-

"_The Bristol-Washington flight is departing. Please..."_

A warm, sticky substance trickled down her shirt. She glanced down; the blood, the bullet hole, and the pain seemed to be seperate entities... she couldn't put them together. Gingerly, she pressed the collar of her jacket to the wound, wincing, as the plane roared into life. She touched her bag suddenly, as if to make certain it was still there.

_Just breathe..._

Eponine looked out of her window at the quickly shrinking airport and buried her face in her hands, an uncontrollable sob racking her frame. She'd done it. She was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

The elevator doors slid shut, and Marius punched the ground floor button.

"One of them mentioned a deal with a Monsieur Lamarque." Cosette leaned against the bar of the elevator. Her red dress reflected a little on the polished wood.

Marius raised his eyebrows.

"He's a fairly big name when it comes to the diamond trade, isn't he?"

The blonde nodded.

"He has a hand in with most of the diamond distributors and jewelers in France. We're talking household names here. Cartier, Boucher, you know..."

"And if he's made a deal with our friend..." Marius let out a low whistle. "That's a lot of blood diamonds, that's a lot of weapons, and that's a lot of war."

There was a refined bell tone as the elevator came a halt.

"Don't forget to turn on the charm." Cosette muttered, and swanned into the lobby, making for the bar. Feeling more than slightly abandoned, Marius followed, trying to be sociable. Cocktails and polite conversation weren't his forté.

Enjolras was back, a different girl on his arm. This one had red hair, and her dress was more fitted, but still encrusted with diamonds. Definitely an advertisement. Marius doubted if she was actually a member of the cartele. Paid escorts were so easy to find...

Nearby, Cosette was sitting at the bar, drink in hand. She'd engaged the bartender in conversation, apparently about the recent decline in the stock market. Clever. Just close enough to be aware of him, and just far enough to be out of suspicion. Marius had the stressful job.

The red-head smiled at what was very likely her paying customer, and sauntered off, leaving Enjolras looking a little relieved.

"Velvet Hammer, please."

Marius had stepped up to the bar, nonchalantly checking his phone. His eyes flicked to Enjolras only once- he was sipping his drink in silence, staring at something beyond the walls.

The bartender slid Marius' glass to him.

"Thanks."

A small mouthful, just enough to taste, and then Enjolras spoke.

"Why the hell are you still here?"

He didn't betray any kind of emotion. It was just a question. He might have been asking what Marius liked to do on weekends.

"Because I'm on holiday, and I mean to enjoy it." The MI6 answered, matching his tone. He took another sip of his cocktail. "What can I say? I'm attracted to mystery."

"I'm sure you are." Enjolras rolled his half-full glass between his fingers. His lips quirked. "You like danger? Confusion? Terror?"

"I mean that there's something about you that I can't quite shake." Marius tapped the side of his glass slowly. One... two... three...

"Which is?"

"I know nothing about you." Marius swallowed. "But you still went down on me last night."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows, making a noncommital noise in his throat.

"Doesn't change the fact that you still need to leave."

"Why though? What's so terrible about seeing me a few times?" The blond didn't answer. "You haven't looked at me once this entire time." The other man continued. "Tell me why that is?"

Enjolras sighed.

"Because I know that if I do, you'll bat those pretty eyelashes of yours, and I wouldn't want you to demean yourself that much."

"Of course."

There was an awkward silence.

"All the same," The blond began. "I told you to leave, and you didn't listen. If there's one thing you ever need to remember about me, it's that I expect to be obeyed. I'd hoped I made that clear last night."

"A little rebellion never hurt anyone." Marius took a sip of his cocktail. "And really, you shouldn't expect to just-" He stopped. "What?"

Enjolras smiled, drink halfway to his lips.

"Nothing."

"You shouldn't expect to just be obeyed without question. Especially in this situation, when we're complete strangers."

"Not completely."

Marius laughed a little.

"Okay, maybe we're a little more familiar with each other than normal strangers... but still."

Enjolras' eyes flicked to the other man. He exaled softly.

"You have to leave." He said flatly.

"I think, actually, we both know how well that's going to work." Marius flashed him a smile and lifted his glass to his lips, playing his trump card.

"I still have my gun, you know."

"I'm sure you do. But I doubt that you'll need it."

The blond met Marius' gaze.

"Fuck you..." He muttered, after a moment.

"What?"

"You and your..." He shook his head, sipping from his glass.

"My what?"

"Your eyes."

A slightly embarassed silence descended.

"I'll be gone in a few days. I doubt you'll ever see me again." Enjolras said eventually.

"Was that... was that an invitation?"

"No," Enjolras drained his cocktail glass, placing it on the bar counter. He handed the barman his credit card. "But this is. Pay your tab, and we'll go."

Cosette didn't even look up when Marius limped into their room at around two in the morning. He sank onto his bed with a faint wince.

"Bit rough, was he?"

He shrugged, pulling his shoes off.

"Little bit."

"Where'd you two go?"

"Another supply closet. Not like he'd take me to his room, right?"

"True."

"To be perfectly honest," Marius shed his dinner jacket. "I think he was a bit stressed."

"Well, he would be, wouldn't he?" Cosette dog-eared the page of her novel, putting it aside. "He's just lost a rather valuable cartele member, and she, as far as we know, made it out alive."

Marius nodded.

"Yeah, saw the newstory they did online. Scenes Of Violence At Bristol Airport. Shots fired, but only one casualty. I think it's safe to assume she got away."

"Hope so." Cosette bit her lip, nestling into her mattress. "She was..." She didn't finish her sentence, and Marius didn't help her, merely picking up his jacket and heading into the bathroom.

* * *

Their damp skin was feverish, seeming to steam against the hotel sheets.

Marius pulled his mouth from Enjolras' shoulder. He'd left teeth marks. Good for memories, especially if this was Enjolras' last night here.

The blond smoothed some of the hair from Marius' face, pulling him closer in a kiss, allowing the other man to reach up, running a hand over his back. Enjolras sighed contentedly, landing beside Marius a moment later. The mattress gave a little under his weight.

"You can stay... if you want. It doesn't matter to me."

They exchanged fleeting smiles at the bar, and Enjolras snorted.

"I might have known."

"What can I say?"

Enjolras blew a cloud of smoke into the air, cigarette between his slender fingers.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"It's a gift."

"Do I even need to ask why you're here?"

Marius smiled, sipping at his cocktail.

"You know why."

The blond stared at him for a moment, head cocked. Eventually, his lips quirked.

"It's my last night. I might as well treat myself. Come on."

"Thanks."

Marius rolled over, nestling into the mattress.

"Good lord, you're freckled."

A finger traced down his spine, and the MI6 grinned.

"So I've been told."

"Turn around, let me look at you."

He obeyed, meeting Enjolras' blue eyes. It was uncanny. He couldn't be an adult... he still had that little boy prettiness, even though he was anything but a child.

"Etienne..." His voice was low, lips at the hollow of Marius' neck.

"Julien..." Gently, he tilted Enjolras' chin up, bringing their mouths together. "You're..."

"Hm?" His eyes flicked up to meet the other man's.

"I... I just realized I know nothing about you."

Enjolras smiled, pressing his lips to the other man's shoulder.

"You should sleep."

"Really? Are you that terrible?"

The blond leaned over, reaching for the packet of cigarettes that lay on the night table. A match flared in the semi-darkness.

"I said you should sleep."

"Maybe I don't feel like sleeping."

Enjolras crossed his arms over his chest, cigarette held just above his bare left shoulder.

"Mm hm..."

The red-haired man reached forward, grabbing the cigarette out of Enjolras' hand.

"Hey!"

"You shouldn't smoke so much." He murmured.

The blond rolled his eyes.

"I'll smoke if I damn well want to."

He kissed the other man hard, hand at the back of his head, mussing Marius' fought around each other, hands slip-sliding over already damp skin.

"I mean- ugh!- it took you this long to..." Marius trailed his lips over Enjolras' jaw. "Bring me to your room, I... just wondered..."

"Well..." Enjolras broke apart, eyes liquid in the gloom. "You're smart." His slender fingers ran down Marius' chest. "What do you think?"

"Well," The MI6 tilted his head to the left. "It can't be entirely legal, can it? Not if you going to these lengths to protect yourself..."

Enjolras grinned, teeth flashing in the moonlight that streamed from the window near the bed. His lips met Marius' again.

"Let's talk about this later..." He mumbled incoherently, and pushed him onto his back, heat blazing in the other's eyes...

Weak, grey dawn was just seeping through the cream-colored curtains when Marius opened his eyes. The sheets smelled like sex, with the faint edge of men's cologne. He glanced beside him, where Enjolras lay. On his stomach, he noted. Like a child. His hair had fallen into his eyes, and Marius fought the urge to brush it away.

The other man's eyes blinked open, and he shifted in the bedclothes, yawning.

"I should probably be getting back to my room...?" Marius sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

"Wait, Etienne-" Enjolras propped himself up on one elbow. "There was... something I wanted to ask."

Marius raised an eyebrow.

"Go ahead."

"Do you know what blood diamonds are?"

"I've heard of them..."

"They're also called conflict diamonds. They're diamonds mined with slave labor to pay for wars or rebellions."

The red-haired man fixed Enjolras with an odd look.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Enjolras gave a sardonic little smile.

"Because I sell them."

Marius stared at the other man in shock.

"Come again?"

"I sell Malian blood diamonds to the public through various big name diamond distributors." He glanced sidelong at Marius. "I hope for your sake that you're okay with this, because-"

"- because if I'm not, then I'll likely suffer some tragic accident."

The blond smiled, one hand tracing the skin of Marius' palm.

"You know me pretty well, for someone who only met me three days ago." Enjolras settled back down against the pillows. "And-" He hesitated.

"Hm?"

"I want you to come with me."

Marius' brow furrowed.

"Come with you? Where?"

"I have to keep in touch with all my clients. As a result..." Enjolras played idly with the edge of the pillowcase. "I do a lot of traveling."

"And you want me with you?" Marius stared at him in mild shock. He'd hoped to open him up a little, but this... he'd never planned on this...

"Of course. You're a good fighter when cornered, seem to be intelligent, a good fuck..." The blond trailed off, noticing Marius' expression. "What's wrong? Hm?" He put a hand on the other man's shoulder. The MI6 chewed his lower lip.

"It's just... the blood diamond trade... it runs on slaves... that's a lot of baggage. And... you're okay with that?"

Enjolras sighed.

"I'm not saying I support it. It's not perfect, and it's not clean. I just like the money. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. That's all."

"But doesn't it weigh on you? The fact that your money is made up of slave blood?"

"I never said it was ideal." He brushed Marius' cheek. "Now, are you in?"

Marius opened and shut his mouth.

"I don't know.. it's... that's a big leap. But..."

"Worried about the guilt?"

"Yeah..." He admitted. "I'm not sure that I could... let myself be a part of this..." His voice shook slightly.

"You wouldn't be a part of the actual process." Enjolras trailed a finger down the other man's cheek. "You'd just be there... for me. Again, are you in?"

Marius swallowed hard.

"Yeah." He said finally, slightly hoarse. "Yeah, I'm in."

"I warn you, it can get rough. You're not as ready as you think you are."

"I'm in."

Enjolras smiled, leaning forward to kiss the other man.

"And... just so you know... my real name's Alexandre. Alexandre Enjolras."

"Alexandre..." Marius dragged the name out, letting it roll off his tongue. Enjolras grinned.

"I like men with backbone. Go, get your clothes on and get packed. We leave at eleven."

* * *

"Let me get this straight: you're leaving me stranded here while you run off to be some pretty criminal's boyfriend?" Cosette leaned against the bathroom door, watching him pack.

"Please, you're hardly stranded, and, just for the record, I am not his boyfriend."

"I know, I know, but I figured I might as well lay it on thick. Still, if you're not being his boyfriend, what made him ask you?"

"Just a theory, but I think he's a bit sex-starved. At least sex with men. I barely needed to talk to him last night before he dragged me upstairs."

Cosette nodded.

"Yeah, thought you two left rather early."

Marius piled his shirts into his valise.

"I'm just not looking forward to having to keep my cover for so long. That's not going to be fun. Not to mention winning over everybody in the cartel..."

"Marius, you get to have orgasms for queen and country, I don't think you're in much of a position to complain. Besides, from what it sounds like, Enjolras knows how to control people. He tells them you're a new addition, and they accept it, I assume. By the way," She frowned. "Are you sure our friends at HQ would let you do this? Fucking your target can be tricky with the nonattatchment thing, and so on..."

"No idea. I'm playing this by ear. If I get a reprimand... oh well." Marius shut his last suitcase. "What'll you do?"

She shrugged.

"Me? Go back to MI6, see what needs doing... be the grunt of the office."

"Good for you." He straightened up, cases in hand. "Let me know if anything comes up."

Cosette mock-saluted.

"Aye aye. Oh, and-" She grabbed him by his collar, mussing his hair with her fist.

"Agh, Cosette!"

"- do us proud!"

She finally let him go, watching him smooth his hair. He'd gone an abormal shade of red.

"Do me a favor," He said. "And never do that again."

"What? I've been meaning to do it for ages, your hair's just so ruffle-able..."

"Yes, and my face got far too close to your breasts for comfort."

Cosette rolled her eyes.

"As if that were a bad thing. See you around, hopefully. Don't get yourself killed, or anything stupid like that."

"The same to you."

Marius waved a goodbye, and then the suite door shut behind him.

Well then. She'd check out of the hotel soon after he left, and go on back to MI6. Get her next assignment. Briefly, she remembered her phone, sitting in her purse. She had the girl in her contacts, it'd be so easy... there'd been something rough about Eponine... something raw. Different... unpolished...

No. That was done. Eponine was finished, just as Cosette's part in this was finished.

Time to move on.

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, that's the end of Part I. Chapter One of Part II will probably get posted after two weeks or so! Thanks to all those people who are reading! Also, no, I don't watch Orange Is The New Black, I don't know what you're talking about****… ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Miss Fauchelevent?"

Blue eyes flicked up from the laptop sitting on the desk.

"Yes?"

"Marm wants to see you."

Cosette sighed, glancing back at her computer screen.

"Can't it wait? I'd like to finish this..."

The red-haired woman standing by her cubicle shook her head.

"You know she doesn't like to be kept waiting. She's not a patient woman."

"I know, I know..." Standing, Cosette typed quickly, clicking out of the program. "What does she want me for?"

"No idea. Come on."

"So, Fauchelevent..." M looked up from her computer at the blonde sitting in front of her. "How's your translation?"

"Tricky. It seems like they've blended several different grammar forms." Cosette's lips twitched. "Trust me. You don't want me to go into details. We'd be here for half an hour."

"Well then. You'll be pleased to know that that's no longer your problem. I'm reassigning you."

Cosette settled back in her chair slightly.

"Oh. Where to?"

"You remember the business with the blood diamonds we had a month or so ago? Alexandre Enjolras? You handled that case with Pontmercy, I believe, in which you put an agent undercover with the cartel without consulting me..."

The younger woman wet her lips.

"That's right. Has something happened...?"

M shuffled some of the papers on her desk.

"To Pontmercy? No, not that I'm aware. But then, of course, he can't keep in touch, can he? No, we've recieved word that there's been a highly suspicious shipment to the cartel itself."

"Suspicious meaning..."

"Body-sized."

"Ah."

M leaned back in her chair.

"It's rather common, actually. Illegal products come into the country packaged into bodies. Gruesome, but quite effective."

Cosette steepled her fingers together.

"What does this have to do with me?"

"During your time on the Enjolras case, you uncovered information that Enjolras struck a business deal with Jean Lamarque, who has control over several large diamond distributors."

"That's right..." The blonde woman nodded.

"Lamarque is primarily based with Cartier. I want you undercover in his department in time for that diamond shipment."

"I see... looking for what exactly?" Cosette's brow furrowed.

"We need a list of all the manufacturers that are actively putting blood diamonds in the market. You'll be fully briefed on your cover, of course."

"I see... thank you, marm."

M nodded.

"You can leave."

Cosette stood, making for the door, then stopped, turning back to her employer.

"Forgive me, marm-"

"-Oh, just spit it out-"

"-Isn't this a little risky? Supposing Enjolras and Lamarque hold a business transaction and he sees me..."

"How likely is it that he'd remember you?"

"True, but there's no point in taking risks."

M sighed.

"I don't normally do something like this, but you know this case better than anyone else I currently have avaliable. And- and kindly don't mention that I said this to anyone else- you're one of the best agents we have. And besides, I don't trust men with this kind of job."

Cosette lips quirked.

"Thank you marm."

"Don't let it go to your head, Fauchelevent."

"Yes marm."

"Now please leave." M glanced at her computer screen. "The prime minister is complaining about something again, and I have to be the whipping boy."

"Yes marm. Thank you marm."

The door shut with a crisp click.

* * *

"We're looking at a dye job, am- am I right?"

"And a haircut, yes." Cosette stared at her reflection as the woman behind her carded her fingers through her blonde hair. "Just as well, I suppose." She added. "I've been meaning to have this bobbed. Tell you what Tousssaint, just chop it up. Just so long as I'm want to be unrecognizable."

Toussaint tucked some of her green-highlighted hair behind her ear.

"Yes, well, you still wa- want to look like you belong in an office." She'd been cursed with a stutter all her life.

"Keep it neat then. Just change it."

"I'll take it up to your jaw- jawline. Layers?" The other woman tilted her head in the mirror.

"If you like."

Cosette reached for a magazine that lay by the mirror. "And dye it brown, if you don't mind."

"Right then." Toussaint reached for a package of hair dye. "Let's reinvent you."

Several minutes later, as Toussaint wrapped a towel around the other woman's head-

"So... what are you doing now so that you have t- to change your appearance?"

"I'm going under in a diamond distribution company. Tracking down where a shipment of blood diamonds are going."

"S- So, who are you this time?"

"I am Euphrasie Lanoire, I am a thirty two year old woman with exceptional typing skills, I grew up in..." Cosette sighed through her nose. "I grew up in _la Lorraine,_ I went to _la Université de Lorraine,_ which reminds me, I need to remember what that regional dialect is like... I am roman catholic, I like pop music, I have exceptional typing skills and references from the offices of Jean-Paul Gaultier, where I made exquisite work of the filing system-"

"Okay, I didn't really need the full autobiography, b- but okay."

"Sorry."

"You're alright. S- so, Euphrasie, what's your favorite food?"

"Um- damn, I know I have this- filet mignon? No, wait, I'm a vegetarian, aren't I? Shit." Cosette turned to the hairdresser. "How the hell am I supposed to survive without meat for at least three months?" She groaned. "How I am I supposed to _remember_ all this?"

"Well, I ju- just do hair for you people, I wouldn't know," Toussaint begain. "But I think it's like cra- mming a test. You study too hard, your brain gives and up and you fail. T- take it slow."

"I don't have time to take it slow. I have to become Euphrasie within three days and then I'm flying out to Paris."

* * *

Light streams through the flimsy hotel curtains, and Marius stirs, running a hand along the mattress till he touches smooth skin.

"It's morning..." He murmured.

"I noticed." Enjolras replied indistinctly, his mouth pressed to the other man's shoulder blade. Marius rolled over, touching his lips to Enjolras' nose. The fair-haired man cracked a smile, meeting him in a real kiss. A hand trailed down into the hollow of Marius' neck.

"I hate mornings." Enjolras said finally.

"I know."

"I suppose I have to get up, don't I?"

"Probably. I don't know your schedule."

Enjolras sighed.

"I do."

Slowly, he sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. There's the strike of a match as he lights his first cigarette of the day.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that in bed." Marius muttered. In response, Enjolras blew the smoke in his direction. The other man waved the fumes away.

"Ugh. Fuck you."

Enjolras' more than slightly vindictive grin faded quickly.

"I already want to go back to bed."

Marius propped himself up on one elbow.

"What do we have to do today?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I have to talk to another anxious diamond merchant. Another first-timer. I have to assure them everything will go to plan. Everything had _better_ go to plan." He added. Marius frowned.

"I thought you don't like coming in person?"

"I don't, but this one's nervy. Jumped-up. Refused to see anyone but me."

The other man sighed.

"Okay. I guess I'll go take a look at the amazing local scenery I've already seen twice before."

Enjolras reached over, brushing his cheek.

"I know, and believe me, I'd take you with me if I could, but these newbies tend to be a little paranoid. One on one is better."

"I'm tired of hotels. Don't you have a house? Or is this some elaborate scheme to cover up the fact that you're homeless?"

Enjolras' lips twitched.

"I have several houses, sort of spanned across Europe. You'll probably get to see at least one before the month's out."

Marius threaded his fingers with the other man's.

"Make that soon, okay?"

Enjolras nodded and kissed him.

"I'll try." He flashes a smile.

Marius leaned back, watching the other man stand, get dressed.

He certainly was attractive. Pretty, polished, he looked unbelievably juvenile, paticularly when you knew what he was capable of. He was assisting the slave trade, no doubt he'd killed before- the cold touch of his pistol to his side was still fresh in Marius' mind- but there was something so innocent about him. When you talked to him, you forgot he was wanted by the British Secret Service. You were too busy wondering how someone had managed to bring an ice sculpture to life. In a lot of ways, he was like the diamonds he sold.

Enjolras looked over his shoulder, catching Marius staring. He smirked and continued to button his shirt.

"You..." Marius tilted his head to one side. "You could cancel that meeting, you know..."

And no, the the sexual fascination wasn't entirely a sham.

Enjolras sat back down on the hotel bed, fingers trailing down the line of the other man's shoulder.

"I doubt that."

"You're Alexandre fucking Enjolras." The other man kissed his way along the base of Enjolras' jaw, nibbling on his earlobe. "You already have them eating out of your hand."

The younger-looking man allowed the contact for a few more moments before he pulled away.

"I wish I could, Etienne, I really do. If I could spend this entire day in bed with you, I would. You know how I am in social situations, after all."

Marius nodded.

"Barely functional."

"No need to rub it in."

"Sorry."

Enjolras glanced at the digital clock on the wall.

"I have to go. I'll see you soon."

Marius nodded, pressing his lips to the other man's hand.

"I'll see you."

Fifteen minutes after Enjolras left, Marius reached for his phone, tapping out a quick message to Cosette.

_New diamond distributor. Don't know name. - Etienne_

Almost immediately, he got a reply.

_Will be in Paris three days. Undercover. Cartier. Lamarque. Will look into it.- Euphrasie_

_That explains the contact name change. - Etienne_

_:) - Euphrasie._

Marius erased his messages- no need to tempt fate- and lay back. It was actually rather dull being the criminal's lover. Take walks, sight-see, try to pretend you're normal... not so different from his regular life, to be honest.

A chrome car pulled out of the hotel parking lot and sped off into the early morning traffic. Marius raised a hand in greeting. Not that it really mattered. Enjolras couldn't have seen anyway. Still, it was good to be thorough.

They'd been traveling all over the country for the past month or so. Marius wasn't lying when he said he was getting tired. After hopping from hotel to hotel, he was ready to settle down somewhere and stay there for at least a week. The most they'd spent at any one inn was three days. Also, it would be better if he knew where all of Enjolras' actual houses were. The Secret Service would be very pleased to have that information.

Enjolras had explained everything out loud, mostly to make sure he had it straight in his head. As he'd said, no transaction was ever quite the same. According to him, there would be a new shipment of diamonds coming in soon. Then would come the long and arduous meeting with Monsieur Lamarque, in which the diamonds would be exchanged for a hefty profit. From there, the diamonds would spread into the market via all the distributors that had made the deal with Lamarque. Thus, Al-Qaeda's side of the war in Mali was funded with the bulk of the money, Enjolras got a neat fifteen percent of the profits, which were large as it was, and the distributors received an already agreed upon amount. A few shifting of gemstones and bank notes, and everybody's happy.

Clever, really.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, no no, I _totally _don't watch OITNB…**


End file.
